


Creature Comforts

by flightinflame



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Creature Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Original Percival Graves is a Softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Percival is struggling after Grindelwald, but finds that Newt's creatures are there to listen even when no human would.





	Creature Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt: http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/459.html?thread=751563#cmt751563. Thanks to Lourdesdeath for proofreading, this was good fun

Percival had been found, rescued from the chains that had bound him and the spells which had tortured him. He had even received a probationary reinstatement to his old role, had met with Scamander earlier that day to discuss new legislation for creatures. He knew that he had nothing to complain about, no reason to be anything but grateful for the kindness MACUSA as a whole, and Seraphina especially, were showing him.

His house was nearly empty now. He couldn't bear to see anything that man had touched, had used. The mirrors had been first to go. Percival would never admit to anyone that he was ashamed of his own reflection, but sometimes - now that he had cut his hair and made himself presentable - he saw the monster staring back from the glass. Then the bed. The plates. The suits. His own identity ripped to shreds as he tried to clear away the filth that had polluted it.

He curled up on the floor in his bedroom, trying to work out how he could move on. He would need to buy new. He was a Graves. Money was never an issue, not for someone from his family, but the thought of pulling himself into the field left him shaking. He didn't want to face the disgrace of everyone staring.

It had been in the _Ghost_ of course. That he had been unmasked, that MACUSA had been deceived, and there were people enough who wanted to blame him for it. He couldn't let his weakness be known.

From his position on the floor, his gaze was drawn to the shoes he wore for work. Those had survived the purge of his belongings, because he needed something on his feet. For the same reason his favourite coat and suit had survived. 

Something was moving in the left boot.

Percival's hand immediately reached for his wand, considering his options. He couldn't lash out too aggressively, not when he wasn't sure what he was facing. But nor could he risk finding himself undefended. He moved into an undignified crawling position, and slowly made his way over to the boot so that he could discover what it was that he had unwittingly brought home with him.

A small blue snake blinked up at him, then spread its wings.  
"Hello there little fella..." Percival murmured, reaching out to tap his wand against the shoe. The snake responded by letting out a panicked squawk and becoming far larger than it had been a moment before.  
"Easy," Percival murmured. "You've escaped from Scamander, I know, it must be very scary, but we'll get you back with your... human... before you know it."

The creature reached out towards him with its beak, and he held his hand still. It wrapped around his wrist gently, before slipping away and growing larger until it was lying around the edge of the room. Percival was aware that finding himself stuck in the middle should have made him feel like a potential snack for the creature. Instead, it made him feel secure, and he closed his eyes, dozing off.

The next morning, he coaxed the snake into his pocket and returned it to Scamander with a smile. He had thought that would be the end of it.

***

It wasn't. Two weeks later he had been working in his office, trying to organise the huge pile of notes which Grindelwald had left unsorted because these cases mattered. There were families that had been destroyed by crimes, and Percival owed it to them to find the answers he could. There was some information Grindelwald had lost, and Percival felt guilty over that, convinced he had failed the very people he was meant to protect.

He let his eyes close for a few moments, thinking over his failures and trying to work out if there was any way he could have stopped the other man. He was a Graves: he was meant to be strong. He was meant to be a hero, and instead he had failed, had been defeated by the other man entirely. Feeling ashamed, he aimed his wand at the door and spelled it closed, using one of the more complicated methods - apparently not enough to withstand a no-maj kick, but enough to prevent the average witch or wizard's spellwork. Then he settled down in his chair, looking at the paperwork.

There were a couple of missing aurors that his gaze lingered on for a moment, watching as their photographs stood smartly, trying to hide their obvious excitement at finally beginning the job they had waited on for so long. There was no mystery here. They had stepped too close to the truth, and Grindelwald had murdered them. Then there were missing children.

Percival hoped that they hadn't been found by Grindelwald, hadn't been mistaken for the obscurial, but there was no way he could know for sure.

There were other cases that he should have been there to help, to support, had been missed due to his unintended leave of absence, dozens of individuals that had trusted him and he had failed them all.

Grief washed through him, and he closed his eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the desk in silent rage. He had shed tears of frustration during his imprisonment, but his eyes were dry now. He was just aware that he had been a failure, that he wasn't worthy of the family name. That thought made him shake, and he was blinking back tears, trying not to let out his weakness once more.

There was a faint popping noise from the door and he jumped, expecting to find himself faced with a potential intruder.

There was an intruder. They were about the size of his shoe, covered in black fur, and managing to look remarkably smug. He looked between the creature and the closed door, and frowned a little. There was absolutely no way that the fuzzy little creature which faced him could have fitted under the door.

No way other than magic. Which meant that Scamander had lost control of his beasts again. The intruder waddled over to the glass cabinets, pressing its face against the cold surface to stare at the objects within.

Percival thought back to the report Goldstein had written up about the entire incident. This must be the niffler that started the chaos that led to his eventual release. Thinking that reminded him of the moment he had been found, and a gasp escaped him. He swallowed, hoping the creature had not been disturbed.

Sharp black beady eyes turned towards him, and the creature wriggled away from the case and instead came over to Percival's desk, clambering up the leg of it with surprising dexterity given its roundness. It reached into its stomach, and pulled out a shining silver bracelet - one that Percival knew Picquery was wearing earlier that day. It held it towards him and dropped it in front of him.

Thinking quickly, Percival took the bracelet and pocketed it, and then picked up a shining paperclip from his desk. The creature took it in both paws, shoved it into its pouch, and jumped forwards to land on Percival's lap. Percival reached up and stroked his fingers over the dark fur, which was surprisingly soft and warm.

"There we go, now, thank you... You should go home. Straight home, no stealing, do you hear me?"  
The creature gave no response. Percival was sure he shouldn't have expected one. After a few more moments the creature slid down his leg, and toddled to the door, slipping beneath it without any problem despite the physical impossibility of the feat. Its tail, wagging, was the last thing to disappear from the room.

Percival wiped his face with his handkerchief and glanced at the bracelet, deciding he needed to return it to Seraphina before its absence was noticed. He told himself he would have to talk to Scamander about the escaping creatures, but part of him rather enjoyed the excitement of them. He thought Scamander was lucky with what he did. Percival himself had been born into a heavy weight of expectation, and Scamander had freedom.

He wrote down an appointment with Scamander, sent a note to Goldstein to inform her, and unlocked his door with a wave of his hand. The rest of the world didn't seem quite so bad any more, and he didn't think he would be able to hide forever.

***

He stopped hiding after what he mentally referred to as "The Niffler Affair". He considered 'The Niffler Incident', but given what had happened during his captivity, that particular title had already been stolen. It had served as a reminder that while he couldn't change the past, he could change what happened next.

He had worked with Scamander to draw up a number of rules designed to aid and protect magical creatures of all kinds, and it appeared the eccentric man had taken to heart what Percival had said about the importance of keeping his creatures away from public view. They were mostly within the case - the lone exception being Scamander's pet twig, which was surprisingly civilised. Several of the tea-girls had started to bring it a woodlouse when they brought in treats for the others, which Percival found adorable in a slightly misguided way. 

Progress was happening. It wasn't fast, but he felt he was beginning to repair some of the damage Grindelwald had wrought, and harm which had occurred before. Things had been beginning anew, starting afresh, and he had been hopeful that MACUSA would be stronger than it had ever been.

That was when he was discovered. The broken body of a young man, on the roof of MACUSA itself. His skin was pale, and he was naked. But he was alive.

Percival had been the one to find him, early one morning. He had gone up to look at the view, and found the man cowering in the shadows. It had taken several minutes to calm him enough that he could breathe, and another couple of minutes to get him to a point where he was able to say his name. When he did, it changed everything.

Credence Barebone had spent a few days in the medical wing, hungrily devouring any foodstuff that was put in front of him. It was clear that however he had survived, the injuries the fight had inflicted on him were going to take a long time to recover from. 

Percival had spent hours arguing for Credence and for creatures, only to rush in late to another meeting, this one with the British Minister of Magic. He bowed formally and felt Newt do the same beside him.

"Minister, it is good to see you," Newt greeted smartly. Percival took his seat at the table, watching as Seraphina skilfully manipulated the European delegation into agreeing that they had no right to demand Credence's surrender. 

Percival was glad of that. He didn't want to lose Credence, and sending him away from the only home he had ever known seemed like a guaranteed way to bring out the obscurial. But Percival kept quiet.  
"It's merely after recent events, we question if you would be able to hold him-"  
"We were not the ones who let Grindelwald slip through our fingers," Seraphina countered. "We held him until you returned for him, and then we surrendered him."  
"He fooled the Director-"  
"I wasn't fooled,” Percival corrected firmly. "I knew what was happening, I just couldn't tell anyone."  
"That boy is a weapon," the Minister snapped. "And weapons do not get the same rights as the rest of us."  
"That boy," Percival said with as much determination as he could muster, "is recovering. He has had enough taken from him."

"If I can speak?" Newt piped up, surprisingly loud in the tense silence of the room. "I am the world expert on obscurials. I think I can care for Credence, maybe even help him stop changing, but I would want him to stay here. If we are going to plan out the boy's future, surely we should at least ask him what it is that he thinks."

"We can speak to him afterwards,” The minister confirmed. The discussion drifted onto issues of trade, and Percival relaxed a little. He had managed to save the young man from being sent away to face punishment. That was a relief because it was clear that none of what had happened had been the boy's fault. 

The thought that the British minister was willing to sit in judgement over someone who had been helpless was rather chilling. There was a black and white morality reflected in those judgements that felt very much like Grindelwald's own. Grindelwald viewed everyone as a muggle lover or a muggle hater, and Merlin help you if you were on the wrong side of that divide. He could remember screaming as Grindelwald tortured him for even the slightest positive comment towards No-Majs. Every time Percival closed his eyes, he could see Grindelwald's mockery of his own expression. He remembered sobbing and shaking, feeling utterly powerless.

Something brushed against his hand, and he nearly jumped. He looked down, to find that Scamander's pet twig was standing by his hand, long thin fingers tapping on his skin. Percival wondered what he was doing - if he was trying to look for bugs under Percival's skin, or something equally disgusting. But the tapping gave him something to focus on as the discussion continued, and he stood calmly. Only once the Europeans had left did he glance towards Newt.  
"Your stick is on my hand."  
"Oops..." Newt reached out for it affectionately. "Sorry about that. He means well, I promise."

Percival looked up at him, and couldn't help smiling.  
"I think you might be right. Do you want to talk to Credence now?"  
"He deserves to know he's allowed to stay." Newt agreed, walking with him to Credence's room. It wasn't quite a cell, although it was designed to ensure that he wasn't able to leave. 

Credence looked up as they approached, and put the book he was reading to one side. Newt held his twig out, and Credence looked up in wonder.

***

If Percival had been told in the first week or two of his newfound freedom that he would reach a point when he didn't wake in the night hearing Grindelwald's voice, that he would find a way to smile and hope and resume his work, he would never have believed them. But he had been wrong. He had made a new life for himself.

Central to it all was Newt Scamander, and the work the two of them had been doing in order to care for magical creatures. After seeing the worst of people, Percival found it strangely comforting to work with the magical creatures Newt was so devoted to.

Credence Barebone had recovered well, spending time with Scamander and staying within his suitcase. This kept him away from MACUSA's gaze, but also helped the young man find a new purpose after a lifetime of abuse and pain. It seemed that he had made some move towards recovering. 

Percival continued to focus on his work. It gave him a reason to carry on, helped him to stay out of trouble and stopped him thinking of what had happened before. He was always loyal to MACUSA, and that was not going to change.

There was a knock on the door to his office, and he looked up to find Newt standing at the doorway, his head peeking around the edge of the door.  
"Hello Scamander."  
"Hello Director. Credence wondered if you wanted to visit my case? He would quite like to see you, but at the same time he is aware that it is a little..." He paused, and shook his head. "Well, if you come in, you would have to agree not to prosecute me."  
"As far as I am concerned, your case counts as a liminal space so normal laws do not necessarily apply."

Newt's grin was worryingly bright, as he carefully placed his case down on the floor and opened it. Percival approached, feeling a little curious. Despite everything, he was intrigued by what it contained. 

He began to clamber down the ladder, his hands shaking a little as he made his way cautiously down each of the steps. It was unnerving, to step into a suitcase, but he knew enough about Newt's activities to know that this was as safe a place as any which he could imagine. 

Climbing down the ladder, he found himself faced with Credence Barebone. Credence looked a lot healthier than his discovery on the roof - his face was rounder and his eyes brighter than they had been previously. He was smiling.  
"Hello Director. Thank you for coming to visit."  
"That’s alright," Percival inclined his head. "I've been hearing quite a lot about this place, and I would love to see what is within here in with my own eyes."

Credence nodded, smiling at Newt, and holding up a cup of tea.  
"Here."  
"Thank you Credence," Newt said softly. "Director-"  
"You can call me Percival while we're here."   
"Percival, thank you, you should come and see what we have here."  
"How much within this case is illegal?"  
"With what you said about a liminal space? None of it."  
"And if that wasn't the situation?"  
"All of it." Newt admitted with a playful grin, not looking in the least ashamed or unhappy about his misdemeanours. Percival found himself smiling back in return.

"As long as the creatures stay within here..." Percival cautioned fondly, but he let Newt and Credence lead him out. What he found himself faced with was incredible. It was a huge place, fragments of different climates all mixed together within the one building. In the distance, something roared, and brightly coloured birds fluttered through the air in spirals. Percival looked around in wide eyed wonder, feeling a little like a child. 

It was too incredible, too amazing. He could see now why Newt cared about these creatures. His gaze was drawn to the niffler which was curled up in a burrow, surrounded by shining gold. He made his way over to it, and pulled a coin from his pocket. The niffler took the treasure, and added it to his hoard, tail wagging from side to side in utter joy. Percival smiled at him, reaching out to pat the small creature on the head. The little beast let out a happy noise, and he rewarded him with another sparkling coin.

"This way," Newt called, and Percival approached him, letting the Brit lead him around the case. He was introduced to a number of animals - including the last graphorns, a runespoor, and a nundu. Percival knew what a nundu was, but Newt said that this one 'would never hurt anyone, and anyway her neck is scarred so she can't breathe toxins'. 

Percival was uncertain, but he let Newt lead him further through. The nundu followed.  
"Newt?" Percival tried to draw his attention. Newt looked over and smiled.   
"I think that she sees a kindred spirit." He ushered the nundu back into her enclosure, and Percival quickly got out of the way before anything happened. He wasn't quite sure he could believe Newt's view on how harmful or otherwise creatures were.

Percival walked with the other two around the case.  
"Would you like something to do?" Credence asked, "Because I normally feed the mooncalves, but you could do it if you would enjoy that, it might be nice."  
"What are mooncalves?" Percival asked.  
"They are sweet," Credence said, as Newt launched into a more detailed and scientific explanation. Percival was handed a bucket, and he stepped away to go and feed them, walking off in the direction that Credence pointed in.

What he found himself faced with was a herd of sweet creatures, tall and with brilliant blue eyes. He threw out a handful of their pellets, and they bounded after the treats, jumping up and down with sheer excitement. Percival leaned against a rock outcrop, taking slow breaths to calm himself as the creatures ate their fill. 

He must have drifted off where he was waiting, because the next thing he was aware of was a warm face bumping against his own. He opened his eyes and found a giant eye staring back at him, reflecting his face in their expanse. He jumped slightly, and found that there were almost a dozen of the odd creatures all around him. They nudged his shoulders and his forehead, chirruping gently at him. It was strangely soothing to be there, surrounded by such gentleness.

He tried to grab another handful of the food, and threw it as far away as possible. The creatures took the hint, jumping after it and momentarily freeing him from his fluffy imprisonment.

He straightened up to find Newt smiling at him. He considered glaring, but then decided it wouldn't be worth the effort. Not when both Credence and Newt looked so amused. He straightened out his clothes with a wave of his hand, and walked away from the mooncalves with as much dignity as he was able to manage.

***

Percival was sitting in his office, feeling a little tired. He had been quite busy with work, and hadn't spent as much time with his companions as he would have liked to. He rubbed his forehead, glancing under the desk to ensure that the swooping evil was still comfortable within its cocoon. The creature had been given to him by Newt, and had decided it liked sleeping under the corner of his desk. He had placed a folded shirt on the floor beneath it, in case it lost its grip and fell down.

For now though, it was at peace, and Percival returned to his work. He rubbed his forehead, trying to relax a little.

He looked up as the door to his office opened, reaching for his wand, and then freezing as a coffee mug floated in. He watched as it hovered through the air.  
"Dougal?" he called out, and the demiguise faded into view. It made its way over to his desk, and placed the cup down.

"Thank you," he praised the creature, pulling an apple from his desk and handing it over. The demiguise took the apple with a sincere nod, and left the room. Percival waved the door closed after him, but didn't bother locking it. There was no point - when he tried that, Pickett would undo the door the next time Dougal had decided he needed coffee. He smiled a little, taking a sip of the coffee. 

It was strange, how easily he had got used to having the creatures in his life. He was used to having Newt and Credence as well, which wasn't something he had ever expected. For a long time he had been alone. He didn't feel alone any more. That was a strange realisation, but one that he was grateful for. 

***

Visiting the suitcase became a regular part of Percival's life in the month or so following his first trip there. He would not think about the legality of what he saw, merely admire the creatures and how they were flourishing thanks to their caretaker. He would feed each of them, and spent a lot of time with the nundu, brushing her fur and helping keep her calm.

He found a kind of peace in the case, one that he wasn't able to find outside it after what Grindelwald had done. He worked hard, but he found his energy was invigorated by the work he did for Newt. Credence was doing wonderfully. The peace that Percival had found was also found by Credence, and he was glad for that. 

Nightmares still came. A few months of comfort wasn't enough to wipe away all of his suffering. But he was able to hide them well enough. He often slept among the mooncalves, transfiguring a piece of the rock into a bed and resting on it. Knowing that the creatures were there, that they would wake him if he had a nightmare, was helpful, as was putting the swooping evil's cocoon somewhere close. 

Percival lay down on his stone bed and allowed his eyes to close. He lay there for a few seconds, reminding himself of the important facts. He was in Newt's case, in his own house, and the spells he had put up would wake him if there was any kind of danger. He was surrounded by the creatures. Grindelwald had been taken to Europe, and even if he had escaped, he wouldn't be able to get back here. 

His breathing slowed as he fell into sleep, and for a while his mind was empty. Then pain arched through him. He began to scream, and felt something press at his side. He opened his eyes to find Newt staring down at him, Credence at his side.

Newt helped Percival to sit up, rubbing his back as he sat beside him. Credence sat down on the other side.   
"Are you alright?" Newt asked, and Percival nodded.

Credence arched an eyebrow, and Percival had the common sense to look a little ashamed.  
"Sorry."   
"Don't," Newt said firmly. "But if you're struggling, you don't need to hide it from us."  
"I just don't want to be a bother."

Credence shook his head, as Newt used his wand to adjust the scale of the bed - making it wide enough for the three of them. He guided Percival to lay down, and laid down on one side, as Credence laid closer to the outside, reaching out to pat one of the mooncalves that had wandered close.

"You don't have to hide your fears from us," Newt said softly. "You're not the only one who has nightmares, and if we can ease them we will."  
"Thank you," Percival answered, and allowed his eyes to drift closed. He was worried memories would overwhelm him again, but none came.

He felt a weight settle across his legs, and opened his eyes to find that one of the mooncalves had climbed on beside them. A moment later slender fingers ran through his hair, and he tilted his head to find Dougal sitting there, staring down at him with curiosity. Pickett was standing on Newt's shoulder, a silent guardian, protecting them all. Percival had seen how the bowtruckle handled a fight, and felt oddly reassured with it there.

He was beginning to doze off when something warm wriggled up onto his chest, and began to tug slightly at his tiepin. He gently guided the creature away from the pin, and instead stroked his hands over the dark fur.

Occamy lay over them, providing a comforting blanket which protected them from the outside world. Percival ran his hands over the fur and scales, before reaching for Newt's hand. A moment later, Credence's hand found his own.

Percival knew Grindelwald would be coming for him. That the man who had taken so much from him would want to hurt him, to destroy all he had worked for and all he cared about. There was no way he could so easily escape from his tormentor. 

But with the support of his friends, he knew he would be ready.


End file.
